


A Small And Mighty Voice

by ErrantNight



Series: Dragons and Daedra [2]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, language lessons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 15:43:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErrantNight/pseuds/ErrantNight
Summary: A bit more with my dragonborn, Threnod. It takes place not long before 'Say My Name'."Threnod returned, as she'd quietly promised, to pitch a tent at the throat of the world."SOMEWHAT EDITED TO FIT NEW MATERIAL!





	A Small And Mighty Voice

Threnod returned, as she'd quietly promised, to pitch a tent at the throat of the world. It took more than one trip, shouting and fighting against the ceaseless winds that whipped snow and stone, to bring everything she needed for an extended stay. 

The Graybeards never said anything, not that they ever did, but even Arngeir only asked what she needed with grave understanding and helped her pack the furs and food and portable stove that she'd need to survive for awhile in one of the most inhospitable places in the world. 

"I found my brother," she said, to Parthurnaax, on the second day, "in Sovngarde. At least I know now."

He'd been too old for the orphanage, too young to take care of her, especially with a burned up house and burned up parents, and no gold to be had in Riften. He'd said he wouldn't lower himself to thievery and so he went to maybe join the army, but he promised he would come back. But he hadn't. 

"Yes," he said, using the small words she'd learned of Dovah, "you know." He was usually more verbose, mixing the common tongue with smatterings of Dovah here and there - but he was trying to teach her in the best way he knew how by speaking only words she knew already and explaining new ones as they went along.

It was hard to tell how long she spent there. She slept a great deal, bundled up beneath a pile of furs and woolen blankets in the hide covered tent. She ate a little, melted snow in her little pot to drink water when she knew she was supposed to. 

She listened a great deal, spoke infrequently in stuttering Dovah as the great old dragon patiently taught her. By the end of some unmarked time she learned to write it, using the cracked and damaged wall that was her friend's favorite perch. By the time she knew she'd have to leave the little she spoke was near to fluent. 

"I know I have to… go," she said. 

Parthurnaax nodded, a sinuous rising and falling of his massive head, "It is not," he paused to think of the word he wanted, "healthy, for you. Humans, even with the blood of dragons in their line, need warmth and others of their kind."

Her chapped lips cracked in the corners as she tried to smile, “Warm sounds good," she said,

She felt a little more cheerful as she packed her things and promised she’d come back someday to visit. Maybe cheerful wasn’t the right word, but at least she was not as weighed down as she’d felt on her trip up with bruised ribs and, well, bruised most of her. Healing spells and potions were all well and good but they only went so far in certain ways. Broken bones, lacerations, poison… it was miraculous for those things, but bruises somehow didn’t count - maybe because they weren’t really a wound exactly and wouldn’t kill her.

Somewhere else. Warm. That was the plan. She'd figure out the rest later. And if she didn't, she'd rather her one friend not be disappointed in her for giving up.


End file.
